


Swimming Against The Tide

by LogicGunn



Series: The Long Dark [5]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, The Long Dark (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Long Dark Fusion, First Time, Fluff, John's POV, M/M, Post-Apocalyptic, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24590566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicGunn/pseuds/LogicGunn
Summary: “I’m ready.”
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Series: The Long Dark [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583821
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65





	Swimming Against The Tide

**Author's Note:**

> I don't make a habit of writing explicit scenes, but then they found the lube in Thomson's Crossing, so...

John steps out of the shower, warm feet on the cold ground, and grabs the towel he left hanging over the washbasin. He dries himself slowly, thoroughly, scrubbing his hair with the fingertips of both hands, before draping the towel over the edge of the shower to dry. The air is steam-filled and damp, the mirror fogged up, and he wipes it with his hand, peering at his warped reflection as he combs his fingers through his hair to coax it into some semblance of order. Rodney cuts it for him every month or so, does a decent job of it, snipping the sides evenly, leaving it a little longer on top. He scrutinises his face in the mirror, takes in the five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw and debates whether or not to shave it off. He shaved this morning, and god knows Rodney likes a bit of scruff, but for what they’re about to do maybe he should take the time, make the extra effort. 

Recognising that he’s procrastinating, John takes one last look in the mirror, then grabs the lantern and leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Miska’s in her spot in front of the stove, stretched out, content and lazy. She eyes him as he passes by, but unlike every other night since she found them, she doesn’t get up to follow. It’s as though she too knows this is a monumental occasion and is content to leave them be for the night. 

He pauses at the bottom step, looks up to the balcony where Rodney’s waiting for him in their bed, the shadows of the railing dancing on the wall from the light of the candles he must have lit. He blows out the candle in his lantern and leaves it on top of a box tucked under the stairs, starts climbing them slowly, each step deliberate and a little unsteady. Rodney’s lying in bed with the blankets folded down to the bottom, naked as the day he was born, pale skin glowing in the candlelight. He smiles as John approaches, reaches out a steady hand to pull John down next to him. John lies obediently, pulls Rodney closer until they’re draped over one another, skin soft and smooth where they’re pressed together. 

John's nervous, feels the butterflies in his stomach flutter and the rapid beat of his heart behind his ribs, hears the rush of his pulse thumping in his ears. It feels like this is his first time, like he’s sixteen again, sitting in the back seat of his father’s car with Nancy straddled over his lap and kissing his neck, anticipating what comes next as she skilfully unbuttons his jeans. Rodney pushes John onto his back, with far more finesse than Nancy ever did, kisses him softly and gently, starting with his face, his neck, sucking the skin over his collarbone briefly before sliding down his body with little butterfly kisses. John moans when Rodney takes him into his mouth, covers his face with his arm to muffle the sounds that tear their way out of his throat. He shudders as Rodney teases him with lips and tongue, feels his pleasure pool in his thighs, the base of his spine. Just as he thinks this is going to be over embarrassingly quickly, Rodney pulls off and climbs back up his body, little nips of his teeth catching skin here and there, his tongue teasing each of John’s nipples before plundering his mouth in a deep kiss. John moans and kisses back in earnest, dragging his fingertips down Rodney’s back and pulling him closer. 

Rodney pulls away, breathless, reaches out his hand and fumbles in the bedside drawer for something, comes back with a tube and a bashful smile. This is it, it’s time. John's as ready as he’ll ever be, but can’t ignore the apprehension building in his stomach. Rodney sits back on his heels, straddling John's hips with his strong thighs. “Breathe, John,” he instructs, brushing his hands soothingly up and down John’s flank. John sucks in a nervous breath, holds it for a few seconds then releases it. “I’m fine,” he says, meaning it. He is fine; he knows he’s safe in Rodney’s hands, has nothing to be afraid of. Rodney won’t hurt him or humiliate him, will take care of him with his gentle hands and his great big heart. Rodney leans down to kiss him again, before pushing off to the side and turning onto his stomach. 

“I’m ready.” 

For a moment John’s confused, wondering what exactly Rodney’s ready for. Then the significance of Rodney’s actions catches up with him and he’s awed by his courage. John went into this thinking he would be the first, but Rodney’s made an executive decision here, has taken away all the uncertainty and the fear and given him something precious; his trust. John straddles him, eager to touch, kneads his shoulders and massages his back until Rodney's relaxed and boneless underneath him. When Rodney’s sighing his contentment, John slides down to give all his attention to his ass, caressing the curve of it and luxuriating in the firm softness. 

He glides a single finger between the cheeks, just a light pressure, exploring and touching Rodney intimately. He reaches for the tube then pauses, gets an idea. He shuffles further down the bed then leans forward, resting his weight on his elbows. Parting Rodney with both hands, he feels him squirm under his touch, and when he presses his tongue to his entrance, Rodney makes a high-pitched keening sound, pushing back as best he can, pinned down as he is under John’s weight. John works him with his tongue until he relaxes even further, short breathy moans on every exhale, grinding into the mattress beneath, and only then does John sit back up and grab the tube, slicking his fingers and bringing them back to Rodney’s body. He pushes one finger in, then a second, slowly, methodically, twisting them around experimentally. Rodney makes no protest, relaxes quickly, stretched out around John, and he sighs. 

“I’m ready,” says Rodney, again, and John feels himself shudder at the words. He’d been so distracted, so focussed on the stretch and preparation that he’d almost forgotten the whole point of the exercise. Shaking with need, he pats Rodney on the thigh to get him to curl onto his side, then lies down along his back, pulling in close. He slicks himself up then presses up against Rodney’s ass. Rodney bends a knee, pulls his leg up and forward, and John finds his way into position almost on instinct. He presses into Rodney’s body with deliberate care, hips stuttering forward in increments. Rodney holds his breath for a moment and John tenses. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, breathing into Rodney’s ear. 

“Yeah, fine. It’s intense.” 

“Is it...is it bad?” 

“No, no. It’s not bad. It’s good.” 

“Are you sure? Because we can swap if you want to.” 

“I’m sure. Keep going. Please?” 

John holds onto Rodney’s hip as he pulls back slowly, burrows his face into Rodney’s neck as he breathes in his scent. He can feel his own body trembling with the intensity of the sensation, the hot, tight grip that Rodney has him in, feels like he might come apart at the seams if he keeps going. Rodney moans when he presses in again and pulls John’s hand from his hip to his cock. John grips Rodney tightly, thrusts as he strokes and they both cry out at the feeling. 

Working up to a rhythm, John moves his hips and his hand together, over and over, Rodney reaching up and round to pull John’s head into his neck as he pushes back into him. They push and pull against each other, grunting with the effort, their bodies slick with sweat in the warm glow of the candles, the sounds of skin hitting skin and breathy moans echoing around the cabin. John feels exhilarated, like he’s swimming against the tide and Rodney's right there with him, keeping pace with him as they get closer and closer. Rodney comes first, and the vice-like grip created by his contractions pulls John right over the edge into an orgasm so strong it knocks the feeling right out of the rest of his body. 

They pull apart and rearrange until John’s lying on his back and Rodney’s head is cradled in his shoulder, breathless and spent, holding onto each other as they come down from the intense pleasure. Rodney mumbles something into John’s armpit, and even if John can’t hear the words, he gets the happy, blissed-out meaning just fine. As he pulls the blankets up and burrows them under, he hears the sound of Miska’s claws clipping on the wood of the stairs as she comes up, and she settles down on the floor next to Rodney, huffs out a sigh that speaks of contentment and tiredness. Rodney’s already asleep, snoring softly where he lays tucked in John’s arms. John kisses the top of his head then closes his eyes. 


End file.
